The King's Daughter
by Soulfinder6546
Summary: This story is about an insider, a person who wanted to love, but kept hating. Meet Anya, otherwise known as Her Royal Highness Anastasia Anne-Miette Clementine of Ixia, the last person you'd expect to hate the King of Ixia.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 _ **Anya POV**_

The knock on the door was loud enough so that it was audible from my bedroom. I was half asleep at that time. Trudging my feet to the door of my suite, I thought to myself,

 _Why would anyone knock on my door at this hour?_

"Coming!" I said, just loud enough so that the person on the other side of the door could hear me. My eyes adjusted to the light, just as I groped along the wall to find the door knob. I turned the cold metal and instinctively squinted my eyes the bright light of the hallway outside. "May I help you?" I looked up at a tall man who stood before me.

"Your father has _hired_ me to be your personal butler, _Your Highness_." The tone of his voice said he didn't like the royal family, probably forced to do the job by the King. I want absolutely nothing to do with that old bastard.

"Oh, _now_ he pretends to care. Tell him I don't need a butler. I've done well enough, for five years, without the help of my _father_." The man didn't seem phased at the harshness of my voice, he simply rose an eyebrow before opening his mouth to speak.

"The _King_ insisted that I stay close by if you require any assistance with anything, _Your Highness_." He kept his face professional and unreadable. "May I come in?"

I finally gave up and let him in. I was too tired to argue. I don't want, nor need, a butler, especially from the likes of the Bastard King. Technically, my new "butler" doesn't have to be my butler at all. He never told me that the King insisted he was to be my butler, just to stay close for help that I don't need. "Sorry. The king didn't inform me of a new butler. So this is quite a short notice thing. I don't have a guest room prepared so wait here for moment, please."

I walked over to the closest guest room which was just opposite my bedroom. Looking at the state of it, _I can work with this,_ I thought to myself. Closing the door, I closed my eyes, finding a happy thought. I held out one hand as if preparing to catch an apple falling from a tree. I felt the magic flow through me, the dust on every surface started to float, a gentle wind encouraged the dust to fly into my hand forming a tornado that fit on my palm. A stronger flow of magic pulsed within my soul, an abyss appeared beneath my feet. Its dark colours swirled slowly, as I willed the dust to fall into the abyss. The dust was taken care of. Now for the bed, there was nothing except for the cotton sheets. It was the beginning of the warming season, and I doubted it would still be cold, but I laid some thin blankets on the bed anyways.

That man was sent by my father, but in my suite, he was no butler, he was simply a guest and every guest has their luxuries.

Ever since Mother died five years ago, any small piece of "fatherly love" the _King_ may have had for me was gone. Replaced by an even more so money-crave, then Ambrose made his speeches more public, with a louder and more confident voice, determined to change the way Ixia was run.

The father I knew before Mother's death, was not much better. I always made an effort to please him with my knowledge and skills, to try and make him proud of his daughter. But with every effort came every failure.

"Go away and stop bothering me," he had always said. Even when I was the talk of the media, winning competitions, and awards, all he did was tell me to stop being a nuisance.

Once I had given the guestroom enough prepping, I strode back out into the lounge room. The man was sitting on the bar stool that was on the end of my kitchenette table. The other three bar stools had no use to me before, but now I had a guest living in my suite to occupy one more chair.

"Your room is ready just leave your stuff in the corner and you can unpack tomorrow seeing as it's late." I stepped to the side to let him pass. I wanted to give my guest the impression that I wasn't the selfish princess the media's hate said I was.

"Erm… Thank You." He seemed to be lost for words.

"You're welcome. Oh and I didn't quite catch your name."

"Ilom, Your Highness." The harshness of his voice when he said, 'Your Highness' had gone. I smiled. I decided to give him my conditions at staying here tomorrow, since he woke me up in the middle of the night, I was still groggy from my sleep.

"Okay, Ilom. You can just rest until tomorrow. Um, don't worry about waking early, you look exhausted from your journey from the northern parts of Ixia. Good night." Ilom's folded and slightly wrinkled job application and acceptance form stated that he came from Icefaren Province up where the snow cat population was at its highest. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the corners of his lips pull up in a tiny smile of gratitude and relief. That was the first sign of emotion this guy showed.

"'Night." He stood up off the stool and I walked side by side with him to the small hallway which most of the rooms in my suite were. Upon reaching the first doors, he and I turned our separate ways for the night.

Pulling the covers of my bed back, I thought, _Strange. If_ he _hired Ilom, then he should have sent a paper to me beforehand. Perhaps he hates me enough to not want to see me or be bothered to even send a paper to me through a maid, knowing I'd reject it straight away. Why would he care now? Strange, indeed._ I sat for a while hunched over with my elbows on my thighs on the edge of my bed, mulling over my thoughts. It was a short while before the moon's light shone through my window, magnifying its bright glow in my eye, bringing me back to reality from my theories.

I lifted my legs on the bed, trying to push the debating theories about my guest, and his connections with my— no— the King, away. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, with the occasional toss and turn, before sinking into sleep's gentle embrace.

 _ **Valek POV**_

Walking into my new room, I went round it, searching for good hiding places for my knives and such, can't have a butler with knives. After I hid my stash of weaponry, I snuck back outside and found my things. I only took the things that if found by anybody, would cause suspicion. Suspicion is one thing I cannot have. Walking around the pleasant furniture I went back to my room, standing with my back against the door I sighed quietly and smiled, _The princess seems like an ordinary person, she doesn't seem like the snobbish stuck-up girl I thought she'd be. I should have known that not all people are as they seem by now, especially after I met Ambrose._

I took two long strides and sat at the desk. I pulled a small folder of blank file of papers. And started to write my report on the Princess.

Day 1

She was very different to what I was expecting. She had no maids to do things for her. She seemed laid back and prepared a room for me a little too quickly. Perhaps she was a magician. No, even with the walls between me and the princess, at the time, I still would have felt the tiniest bit of magic due to the small size of the rooms.

The princess seemed suspicious of my arrival. I was thankful that no one had noticed an unfamiliar face walking amongst them in the corridors outside. I think I need to gain her trust and wait for the perfect opportunity to complete Ambrose's order. Tomorrow I'll act a little less hostile than I was tonight. She also seems to dislike her father, the King. Why? That's another mystery I'd have to solve as well.

 _Report Summary—_

 _Name: Princess Anastasia of Ixia_

 _Age: at least nineteen_

 _Features: Green eyes, dark hair and slightly tanned skin* and long scar across her collarbone**_

 _I need to gain her trust before anything else._

 _She shows signs of dislike towards the King._

 _Find out whether she is a magician or not._

 _Find out why she doesn't like her father._

 _*I fail to understand why she has tanned skin. It's not natural pigmenting because of her northern heritage, and surely she hasn't gone out a lot, otherwise she would have spotted some of the rebels._

 _** How is that there? She would have had it healed by a magician, if not herself, by now. Perhaps she is immune to magic like me._

I closed the folder and carefully slid the papers into the slim brief case of reports and dossiers on every threat or recon subject I've spied on since my last trip to main headquarters. With all my weapons and files hidden in the room. I guess I'd have to wait until tomorrow for a chance to gain Princess Anastasia's trust.

As I prepared for sleep, I thought about the orders that Ambrose had given me and review my plan. No one had seen the princess since Queen Jewel died. Despite the rumours circulating within the entire Kingdom of Ixia, I, the infamous assassin who works for the Leader of the Rebels, did not kill the queen. No one would miss the princess, half the kingdom hates her for her father's corrupted deeds, the other half aren't even sure if she is still alive or even know she exists. All that's left to do now is to gain her trust and wait for the perfect opportunity.

I slid under the thin blankets of the bed, banishing all thoughts about my mission. The princess was right. I was exhausted from the trip from my last assignment from Ambrose. I no longer resisted the forceful lull of sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 _ **Anya POV**_

 _Dear Ilom,_

 _I've gone out for a run in the park._

 _Here's some food for you on the table if you wake up and get hungry before I return._

 _Anya._

I placed the note on next to the sweet cakes that I had made just yesterday. I headed for the door and turned to my right, with my hand reaching for my purse that contain my switchblade and money to buy enough food for two. My mother used to say that you could never be too prepared. I found while I was sneaking around in the King's study. I always kept it with me when going out, it had kind of become a habit. Turning around, I walked in long strides, thinking about what Ilom would think of my 'unladylike' hobbies.

The glass doors that lead to the balcony swivelled on their hinges as I opened them. I did a clearance check for people below, and as usual there was no one walking below my balcony or anyone walking within a 10 metre radius. So I back up a couple of paces and ran forward again, planting my hands on the waist high railing, I hoisted my legs up and jumped the rail. Free falling for a couple of metres before I landed on a branch as I have done so many times. I felt the sharp jab of pain on the soles of my feet and chastised myself for not bending my knees soon enough. Pushing myself off the branch, landed on the soft grass. I looked up at the balcony, hoping I thump of my shoes against the branch and the rustle of the tree's leaves weren't enough to wake Ilom.

I began to walk in the direction of my favourite park, slowly gaining a faster pace. By the time I was in a slight jog, I reached the stall market, and a scene unfolded before me.

A woman in her late thirties who, no doubt, was a beggar, was carrying a small child while a young boy hid behind her matted garment as a soldier harassed her for exorbitant taxes, when obviously she had no money to give. On lookers who saw the harassment had pity written all over their faces, but no one had the courage to stand up for her and her family against one who had authority in the name of the King. I stood there, frozen.

"Please, sir." Her pleading had no effect on the cruel soldier. "I have no money, please have mercy. My children have never even had a proper meal in their lives." Her head bent down to hush the crying baby, whose high-pitch wails brought more attention to the woman and the soldier, who sneered cruelly.

"Everyone get back to what the friggin' hell ever you were doin' before!" He turned back to the woman's pale face. "I don't give a shit. Now gimme the money." He grabbed the woman's collar and shook her roughly, the little boy whimpered and the baby's screams grew even louder. That was all I needed. I pulled my hood over my head, pulling it down far enough so that I could go unidentified if I could help it.

"Unhand her immediately!" I yelled. Everyone's head turned my direction. Including the soldier's.

His eyes widened in surprise at the fact that someone had stood up to him, but he quickly recovered and the look of shock was replaced by a look of pure rage. "How dare you talk to me like that!" His grip tightened on the woman's shirt.

I sighed mentally. _All or nothing, right?_ My hand reached up to pull off my hood. I stared him straight in the eyes, hiding my real emotions behind a mask of utmost authority. "Says the man talking to the princess." The gasps started and everyone who heard our little "conversation" instantly dropped to their knees with their heads bowed.

The soldier still held his ground, "How do I know that you are the princess?"

"As princess, I have the power to protect the innocent. And _you_ are _far_ from innocent. You leave me no choice." I focus my magic on him, my anger dangerously lingering on the edge of dominance. The memory of my mother's voice found its way to the surface, _Anger is wild, take control and let love flow, instead._

The image of flames appeared in my mind, urging the illusion of the flame's heat into his mind. The soldier's scream last for a moment. I didn't like using my gifts to inflict pain, but I found way to immobilise someone that didn't hurt them physically. He crumpled to the ground and hid his head behind his arms, as I he expected more pain to come upon him any moment. He scrambled to his feet and bowed at my feet. "Your Highness! Please forgive me! For my rudeness toward you I deserve to die for such crime." It took him a moment to realise that the flame's heat was gone.

"Consider it a warning." With that, I willed myself invisible and waited for the crowd to disperse before extending my wings to fly away. I flew around in giant circles to clear my head and landed in a tiny clearing in the cluster of trees in the park. Retracting my wings, I jumped from the air, running to the footpath. I thought about that soldier who kept on "asking" the beggar for her taxes. He had stopped his attacks in surprise, which meant no one else had had the courage to stand in his way. The people were too afraid of the King's corrupt power and authority. After my little show, he just begged for forgiveness and just accepted punishment death. He, too, was just a lowly commoner in the King's eyes.

A sharp cry rang out to my right, which startled me out of my funk. I stopped and looked for a source. I almost laughed at what I saw. A small family of sparrows were teaching the babies to fly. The littlest of the children went first. The brave little thing launched off the high branch. If I were a little bird just like him, I think I'd be scared out of my wits. The sparrow completed and arch and dived down towards the hard unforgiving ground around the tree. I fear for it life but just before impact. The bird flapped its tiny wings begin to float. Its family came down as swiftly as possible and gathered around the baby bird.

For a moment, I envied the little bird. Not just because he had learnt to spread his wings and fly, but because he had such a caring family for him. Mine had never been that way. Not even when my mother was alive.

I watched the loving family help the fallen bird, standing still. I didn't want to frighten them away. The baby had hurt his wing. Almost as if to thank him for refocusing my mind on something new, I healed him. A trail of magic left my finger tips and absorbed themselves into the injured wing, healing it instantly. I smiled as they flew back up into the branches.

I thought of the beggar woman once again. I wondered if she was still at the market. An idea struck me like lightning. Walking hastily, I headed towards the baker's stand, and bought a loaf of bread. I remembered the woman say that she could afford to buy proper food for her children. For a good half hour, I searched the streets looking for the place where that family lived. A couple of boys were playing and one of them bumped into me. He looked up frightened.

"I'm sorry ma'am. I wasn't looking where I was going." He said, so quietly that I almost couldn't make it out.

"That's alright, but next time be a little more careful. You might bump into someone mean." I said, looking down with a small smile. The recognition exploded in my mind. This was the little boy hiding behind the beggar woman. Before I could say anything, he was already a few metres behind me running from his friend, whom I assumed was 'it'. "Little boy!" I shouted, trying to catch his attention. His friend turned around first,

"Me, ma'am?" he asked, sounding a wee bit nervous, like he had done something wrong.

"No, your friend over there," I pointed at the small figure standing at least ten metres away, staring at me.

"Andre! Get over here, she wants to speak to you," said Andre's friend, waving his hand in a gesture that said 'hurry up'. Andre started to run back to where we were. When he came closer, he recognised me.

"Your Highness." He said, addressing me cautiously and bowing his head. His friend's eyes widened and did the same.

"Where is your mother?" I asked, I tried to sound like I wasn't just here for business. I tried to sound like I was an old friend and hoped they were not haters, even though it was unlikely after what they'd just seen a while before. I haven't had many diplomacy lessons. My mother had told me that she teach me after 'Manners'. She never got the chance to finish my lessons.

"My mother is in our house, Your Highness."

"Will you please take me to her, I'd like to talk with her."

Andre looked at his friend as if to ask "should I?" He look a little reluctant took take me to her mother. As if I'd hurt her. The realisation hit me like a splash of icy water. He'd seen me 'hurt' the soldier.

"Oh, don't worry. I won't hurt her I can promise you that. I just want to give her something." That did the trick. Soon the two young boys led me down the street into an isolated part of the town. Everywhere I looked there was nothing but dry looking tree and shrubs, surrounded with wees and hard, compacted dirt. The only signs of any life or civilization, was the wide road and rundown, shack-like buildings. One of the boys, Andre, ran ahead.

"Mama! It's the Princess! She came to visit you!" I heard Andre's voice, filled with happiness and pride. I smiled, knowing I just made the boy's day.

"Andre, stop joking around. That's absolutely ridiculous. Why would a royal come visit us? Let alone the princess, for Fate's sake." I smiled, wasn't she in for a surprise. I walked up to what I assumed was the entrance of their house. Sturdy shelter was more of the right words to describe it.

I knocked on the wall, and the woman jumped. "Hello?" I said, when I saw her shocked face, I smiled a small smile.

"Your Highness! Um, what an honour to have you in my humble home." She stammered.

"Thank you. May I come in?" I asked, already knowing the answer. Anyone else of the King's employment would have just barged in not caring to show manners to this—I quote— lowly creatures.

"Of course." She bowed deeply as if she believed the soldiers cruel and mocking words. I stepped inside and took a deep breath. I don't know why I was nervous, it was just a visit.

"I'm Anya." The beggar woman stared at me. Then at my outstretched hand. I wondered, living in such a poor community. How could I have not known about these conditions? Perhaps she was not familiar with this greeting, but then she blinked and shook my hand. Her skin felt warm and calloused from the field and kitchen work.

"I am Vera, Your Highness." I had to refrain myself from flinching at the use of royal title, reminding myself who I am ever so unfortunately related to.

"I've come to apologise for my father's," I choked the word out, "soldier's actions before. Please accept my apologies with this bread and money." She gasped as I held the bag that contained the bread and a few notes.

"Thank you! Thank you so much, Your Highness." Her face held a grateful grin that soon slid right off, only to be replaced by a tiny twinge of a frown. The tiny bit of nervousness I had managed to get rid of, had come smashing back in thick waves. "I don't have the money to pay for this." I almost burst out laughing at how simple the problem was, but I couldn't stifle a tiny giggle.

"This is a gift from me to you, Miss Vera. This visit had no benefit for myself except for that feeling of satisfaction, knowing I helped someone." Vera smiled, and thanked me again. Calling her boys in, she went over to the makeshift crib, made from branches dried and bound together lined with a thin sheet. Vera fed the baby little pieces of bread. I bade farewell to her and her lovely family.

Family.

People who love and care for you. Something I never truly had.

 _ **Valek POV**_

I lay in my new bed, staring at the ceiling. Listening. The suite was really, really quiet. Too quiet. I wondered for a moment. _Is the princess awake? If so what cold she possibly be doing that would be this quiet?_ Questions buzzed in my head, while I turned my body to push aside the curtains and look out the window. It was nine o' clock, judging by the sun's position in the sky. I urged my body to roll out of bed, and I sat on the edge of my bed.

It was a clean room, tidy and neat, just the way I hated it. I couldn't put down any security measures what so ever. Otherwise the princess would probably fire me with one look at my "messy" room.

After getting changed, I opened my door slowly and carefully, hoping that the door didn't squeak. I let the door shut silently and I walked down the small hallway. Noticing a small plate of sweet cakes on the table. Upon walking up to them, a small square of paper caught my eye.

So she _had_ already gotten up. From this note alone, I knew she was active person, but several reports from a few of the servants and guards in the castle, on the Rebel's side, stated that no one had seen the princess come or leave out of the castle or her suite for that matter. So how is she going "out for a run" every morning?

I heard the rustle of a branch outside. The sound was too vigorous for a bird, I hid in case it was a friend of the Princess's. That would ruin everything. Her friend might tell someone else that the princess had a butler and the gossip would travel all the way to the King, who would ask his daughter about a 'butler' and that would blow my cover along with my fake documents of 'acceptance'.

I quickly tiptoed back to my room and hid in the half empty closet. Which also reminded me to unpack the rest of my clothes.

"Ilom?" The voice outside was muffled, but it belonged to the princess. Before I could get my ass out of this stuffy closet, I heard the door to my room open followed by soft footsteps on the carpet. _Shit_. I can't get out now. The footsteps stopped right outside the closet, I heard a small laugh. "Ilom, why are you hiding in your wardrobe?"

I sighed and came out. At first, I squinted for a while, while my eyes adjusted from being in the darkest for so long. The princess stood in front of me, leaning her weight on one foot. Her arms were crossed, but she wore an amused look rather than suspicious. "Uh, I don't know." I replied. Really? In all my years of assignments, never had I ever come up with such a lame and horrible excuse.

Amazingly, she shrugged it off. As she walked out the door I noticed was she was wearing. She had a loose red and black T-shirt with black tights. I noticed how her t-shirt was loose enough to appeal modest, but still showed the curved of her waist. My eyes travelled up to her head, where the princess had tied her dark hair into a ponytail. Again, with red.

"Are you coming?" Her face held an even more amused expression. She had caught me staring.

"Yes, Your Highness." I avoided her gaze and walked out, awkwardly.

"Don't want the sweet cakes?" she began, then continued without an answer. "That's alright, I was going to whip up something else anyways." She disappear around the corner. I hurried after her, if she was going to cook for me then I have to be aware of poisons she may have slipped in. She told me to sit at the table, which was a long strip of marble coming out of the wall with is ends supported be ordinary table legs. So I obeyed and sat on the other side so I could watch her cook.

 _This explains why she hasn't been seen in the kitchen or the dining hall, she cooks her own meals._ I thought. She must have been alone most of the time.

After "breakfast", the princess went through some "conditions" of my stay.

She said, "First of all, unless we're at an event, please, please, _please_ don't call me 'Your highness', just Anya will do. Or if that's still to informal for your likings, Anastasia."

"Why?" I interrupted, by now I think I can't be a little bit less formal with the princess. By getting me to call her by her name, is definitely a rebel type of girl. Not one for the King's rules. The princess—Anya– doesn't like formalities for a reason, this was a perfect opportunity to get something out of her.

"It reminds me of who I am ever so unfortunately related to."

"And you hate your fa—" Anya shot me a pointed glare, so I rephrased my sentence. "You hate the King so much, because?" I prompted her to finish the sentence.

She sighed, "That's not really your business now is it?" _Damnit, I thought I was getting somewhere._ "That was my next point: don't ask about my relationship with the King or my mother, understood, so far?"

"Yes," I replied, refusing to give her a reason to dislike me when I was already gaining some of her trust at a steady pace.

"You can still get paid for whatever you're supposed to do, but I simply cannot have a worker who is probably getting forced to work for me, work for me. Long story short: as long as you stay in my suite, you are no butler to me, you are a guest." Okay, I have to admit that one just give me a million more puzzles to solve.

I sat there, listening to her conditions. I thought about them in so much depth I hadn't noticed when she stopped. Her face held a stubborn expression and I could tell that she had a very strong stance on them.

"Understood, um, Anya." I said, weakly. She seemed satisfied with my answer and walked off in the direction of her room. "Where are you going?"

"White room, which may I remind you, you are prohibited from entering until I can trust you with my secrets," She opened her bedroom door and it was surprisingly clean. Maybe I'm not the only one who she has refused help from. Until I get further proof I'm just going to assume the reason for her hatred against the King is because of his tyrannical ways. "Now, get out. I'm getting changed." Her hand made a shooing gesture, a clear dismissal.

I nodded, absentmindedly, and walked out into the lounge room, wondering what to do now that Anya had made it clear that I won't be a "butler". I remembered that I hadn't unpack my clothes yet.

When the last of my clothes, not including the ones with special loops to hide weapons in, where stored away in the closet, I sat down on the mahogany-felted desk chair and pulled out Anya's dossier. After reviewing it over once more, I heard strange sounds coming from the White room, like wood striking wood. For a while, that was all there was. Then silence. I wrote my report and added a few more things to her profile.

Day 2

The princess has given me 'conditions' to my stay, she wants me to call her 'Anya' suggesting she cares not for formalities, the cause could also give lead to the reason as to why she hates the King. "Anya" has shown me around every room in her suite, except for a room she calls the "white room". I'll need to find out what is in there, but for now my theories are kept to myself for they have no further evidence that even one of them are correct. She has prohibited me from entering, I simply cannot risk getting caught when I am half way there to gaining her trust.

Looking at the larger things going on, the princess's secrets could be valuable, and seeing how much she hates the King, anything she reveals may be liable. Another thing to note, she refuses any help from the King's choice of employment.

 _Report Summary—_

 _Name: Princess Anastasia of Ixia_

 _Alias: Anya_

 _Age: at least nineteen_

 _Features: Green eyes, dark hair and slightly tanned skin* and long scar across her collarbone**_

 _I need to gain her trust, no.1 priority._

 _She shows signs of dislike towards the King._

 _Find out whether she is a magician or not._

 _Find out why she doesn't like her father._

 _The reason is assumed that she dislikes the way her father runs the kingdom._

 _Find out what is in the white room._

 _Find out what the source of those striking sounds are._

 _*I fail to understand why she has tanned skin. It's not natural pigmenting because of her northern heritage, and surely she hasn't gone out a lot, otherwise she would have been spotted some of the rebels._

 _* The reason as to why she hasn't been reported to be seen outside the castle is so obvious I'm almost ashamed to admit so. She dresses like ordinary people, and no servants has seen her in the castle so none of them know what she looks like. Also, she exits her suite via the balcony that overlooks the Snake Forest. Very convenient for sneaking out without witnesses._

 _** How is that there? She would have had it healed by a magician, if not herself, by now. Perhaps she is immune to magic like me._

After that, there wasn't much to do. When Anya came out of the white room, her face was a little red and her hair was wet like she just showered. She was wearing a summer dress, which was mostly red and black bands had been sewn along the hem and around her waist. She was beautiful. I mentally slapped myself for thinking such thoughts, such dangerous thoughts.

"Hey," she said, she chewed her lip, "You haven't had much to do, have you?"

I shook my head. "Not really," I admitted. I had an idea. "I've been thinking about what you said before, about trust and all. How exactly do I earn your trust?"

Anya cocked her head to the side like a puppy recognising their owner and placed a finger on her lip, thinking. "You'll know." She smiled and kept walking towards the lounge.

"But, you will give me a chance to earn it, right?"

"Of course."


	3. Chapter 3

Hi guys,

I'm really sorry about that last chapter. But I've fixed that up and now I present to you: the real chapter 3.

 _ **Chapter 3**_

 _ **Valek POV**_

The weeks became routine, and Anya was beginning to trust me more, but trust is a two way street and I had to fully trust Anya, for her to fully trust me. One morning I caught her sitting at the balcony looking out at the sun rise, I walked up to her and sat next to her on the bench.

"'Morning." She said, her eyes didn't even look in my direction, still glued to the glowing sky, brightening as every second passed by. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" Her green eyes held more sadness than I'd ever seen.

"Yeah. It sure is."

"Have you ever wished that you could just fly away from all your troubles?" she sighed. What she did next surprised me. She leaned her head on my shoulder, I didn't do anything. Looking down, I saw her finger, tracing the scar across her collarbone.

"Tell me something. Anything." She murmured. Something was on her mind, I could tell she had the same thoughts I had every day. She wished that she could go back in time and reverse something she'd done. I wanted to comfort her, so I told her what I wished _I_ could reverse.

"My father owned a leather business, which collapsed in the blizzard about eight years ago. We didn't have enough money to buy more equipment and pay the taxes. But the soldiers who came to collect the tax money wouldn't listen. I was a skinny little kid at the time, but I had three older brothers. When my father told them that if paid the full tax amount he wouldn't have enough money to feed his family—"I paused, wondering if I should tell her the rest. "—they killed my brothers. They laughed and said, 'Problem solved. Now you have three less mouths to feed.'

"My mother died from the grief of losing three of her sons, and my father almost left us, because of it. I hope I can trust you with my secret." I felt her head nod against my shirt. "Now it's your turn. Tell me what's bothering you?"

"Nothing." She almost fooled me. Almost.

I chuckled and said, "Liar. I know something's wrong, what is it?"

She sighed. "Five years ago, today, was the day my mother died." She found my hand and wove her fingers in mine, I squeezed her hand. For now I think I can forget about not talking about her familial relationships. "Can you keep _my_ secret?"

I nodded, but she wasn't satisfied.

Anya let go of my hand and lifted her head off my shoulder and looked me in the eye. I found myself feeling disappointed at the loss of the touch of her hand. "You have to swear it." For _Anya_ to get serious about something, the topic must be a pretty big deal.

"I swear that I will not tell anyone what I am about to hear." Was that the right choice? My throat clenched tight whenever I thought about me having to betray all of Anya's secrets to Ambrose in my reports.

'"Thank you." Anya sighed again, and to my relief she leaned her head back on my shoulder, but where her hand used to be, remained cold in the morning breeze. I could barely control my movements the idea of my arms wrapped around her was tempting. _Really_ tempting. The only thing that kept me from doing so was the constant reminder of my mission being the thing that gets the Rebels one gargantuan step closer to overthrowing the King and his corrupted magicians. "I know who killed my mother."

At first I didn't know how to respond to that, if she knew that it wasn't me that killed Queen Jewel then this could be a crucial piece of information, but I remained silent. Interrupting her now could change her mind about telling me such personal things.

"It wasn't the Rebels' assassin, as the King led everyone to believe." She started, still staring out into the horizon. The sun's growing light reflected the sadness in her eyes, it obviously was still a very touchy subject for her. "It was _him_."

I was shocked. I knew something was fishy, if the king wanted to cover up the death of the queen with a scapegoat who has an easily convictable history. But I never thought that he could kill his own wife. Then again, the bastard hasn't made any effort to even see his daughter, according to Anya. Jewel came from a reasonably wealthy family, of course! A man as corrupted as he was would marry into a wealthy family. I was a fool to not think of this even as a theory in the first place.

"It was common knowledge that they fought a lot, but it wasn't common knowledge that he would abuse her often. One night I was finishing of the work that my tutor gave me, and I heard a door slam. They arguing over something again. There was yelling, and shouting and I even heard him slap my mother.

"I was tempted to help her, but I was scared," Anya was on the verge of tears, now, her voice shaking more and more with each syllable. "I heard the sound of metal and I looked around the wall I listened through…" She paused for several heartbeats. I saw the sparkle of light the sun made, reflecting off the single tear rolling down her cheek. "He killed her, Ilom. The King killed my mother."

I said nothing, but I turned to face her, putting my arms around her and I let my fingers stroke her dark hair. She had more to her tale.

"I ran to Mother and tried to stop the bleeding, pleading him to help. I looked at him expecting to see regret and guilt, but he showed no remorse for killing her. Instead, I saw rage and anger on his face. "You sneaky brat! How dare you eavesdrop and intrude on me like that!" he said, he was waving the knife at me. I dodged, but only just. He cut me deeply, that day.

"I ran and I have never seen him since." Her voice trembled with effort, trying to hide the tears, and buried her face into my chest. I gently rubbed her back.

We sat on the bench for a long while, with Anya leaning on me, her arms around my waist and my arms around her shoulders. She was really quiet for a little while, all I could hear was her soft, quiet breathing. "Anya?" I said, quietly.

"Hmm?" a barely audible reply escaped her lips.

"Are you alright?"

"Mm-hm." Anya sighed with content. Seconds stretched to minutes before she spoke again. "So this is what it feels like to be comforted. It's been so long I've forgotten." She was murmuring quietly to herself. The poor girl had been living on her own since the age of fourteen, she didn't have anyone to confide with. I looked down at her, admiringly. Anya was the strongest person I've ever met. Besides Ambrose, of course.

When the sun started to glare at our eyes, we went back inside her suite, I had a lot to write in my report.

At night, Anya found me in my room reading one of her books. "Ilom?" she poked her head in and looked around. Her eyes lit up when she smiled at me. She walked in and sat on my bed, across from me at the desk.

I noticed the skin around her eyes weren't as red and puffy as before. "Yes?"

"I just wanted to thank you for before. I've never really had a friend like you, so thank you," she said, then she looked the tiniest bit worried. "You will keep my secret, right?"

"Of course," Hopefully not a lie. "I'm happy that you trust me enough to tell me." Definitely not a lie.

"Okay. Um, see you tomorrow." She smiled and gave a weak laugh in attempt to resolve the awkwardness and left the room. I smiled after her, I let it come and made no attempt to get rid of it. Then it hit me.

I love her.


	4. Chapter 4

Hello peoplez,

Okay I wrote this one when I was on my periods (I'm a woman) and is probably gonna be way overly dramatic and totally unrealistic coz, you know, Anya is one of those really cynical people. Okay! Let's just all pretend she's drunk (and we all know what happens there XD) but the story never says anything bout it. Or just really drunk-ly emotional (you know what I mean the red squiggly spellcheck line isn't gonna kill me) (stupid squiggly line).

Also, I'm sorry bout the author note being not properly edited, its just cause I take so much time zombie proof reading my fanfic that I really need some casual random button pressing witho9ut the fuss of mouse moving to click on the bloody word to bloody spell correct it.

 _ **Anya POV**_

I sat, cross-legged, on my bed with my hands on my lap, eyes closed, remembering yesterday morning when Ilom had his arms around me. Remembering that smell of musk radiating from his body. I smiled warmly at the lingering memory.

A soft knock on the door startled me from my reminiscing, I knew instantly that it was Ilom on the other side of the door. Leaping from the bed, I reached my arm out to open the door. I was greeted by Ilom's strong angular face, which softened when he smiled at me, "'Morning. I wasn't sure whether you were awake or not." Ilom started, placing his hand on the back of his neck.

"Good morning, Ilom. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" I replied, smiling back at him.

"I just had a few questions, if you don't mind me asking." I did. But for his sake:

"That depends on what the question is."

He hesitated, pulling his hand away from his neck, "Um," walking over to my bed, I patted the edge of my bed signalling for him to sit and sat down myself. He sat facing away from me, looking down into his hands and continued. "It's partially about what you said yesterday." He paused again, as if expecting me to reject the question. When I kept silent Ilom kept talking. "Say that, hypothetically, the king died: what would you do then?"

I was taken aback. I hadn't expected that kind of question. "To be honest, I hadn't really thought about it that far."

"Would you be happy that he's gone?" he pushed,

"Well, I guess so."

"What about you, huh? What would you do when you become queen?"

 _Become queen._ The meaning of his words settled into my skin. I blurted out words that were more for my benefit, "I could make a change, to this nightmarish hell he's made of Ixia, and turn the place into something wonderful and…" My words trailed off as I realised the mental danger of becoming queen.

"And?" Ilom's voice managed to squeeze between my messes of thoughts scattered everywhere.

"No. I can't. I can't be the queen."

Ilom's eyebrows furrowed when he turned around to see me curled in ball. "Anya? Are you alright?" I heard his voice, but the comprehension failed to show up.

"NO!" I shouted, I launched from my position and shoved Ilom away from me, waving my arms around like a madwoman keeping him at arm's length. In a blur of movement, Ilom wrapped his arms around my body pinning my arms to my chest so I couldn't hit him. He dove onto the bed, twisting his body so I lay on top of him.

I stopped struggling and I was suddenly afraid. I lay frozen for a moment with my back against him, secured on his strong arms, and all I could hear were the sounds of our breathing. "Anya?" Ilom's warm breath on my ear sent shivers down my spine.

"I can't. I just can't, Ilom . . . I'm scared," I admitted,

"Scared of what?" he asked.

"I'm scared I'll be like him. I'm afraid of going corrupt. I'd rather let Ambrose and the Rebels takeover." I buried my face into my hands and Ilom's grip around me eased.

He said nothing and we sat there for a while. Neither of us speaking. It reminded me of yesterday, I breathed in the musky scent coming from Ilom. Leaning against him for the second day in a row, I felt happy for the second day in a row for a very long time.

When he decided that I wouldn't push him away and that I was calm. He let go of me and we got up.

"Thank you," I said, truly grateful for comforting me.

"You're welcome," he said.

He walked out the door while I remained there for a little while longer. Ilom's head poked back around the corner, "We're out of bread."

My head tilted to the side, something I did when I was concentrating. "I'll buy some more while I'm out. I'm taking the hill route today so I'll pass the market on my way home." I said, casually smiling at him.

"I've noticed that you haven't been going out as much as before when I first met you." His face had a curious look on it, but his aura told me otherwise.

Ilom's aura was very grey most of the time, signalling for someone who's very guarded. There are some tints of black, meaning the reasons for most of his irrational decisions and actions are from suffering loss, in Ilom's case it would be losing his brothers all at once. Seldom is there any yellow or brighter colours than the norm of grey and black.

"Haven't you heard any gossip from anywhere?" I was genuinely surprised, he can't have just stayed here day in day out with nothing to do, could he? I voiced my thoughts and his answer surprised me even more.

"Yes." A simple one-word answer, yet it had the tone of someone who doesn't allow himself to have fun and has somehow 'gotten used to it'.

"You _have_ to get outa here some time."

"Speaking of getting out of here, I think it's time to send some letters home."

"Good, some fresh air ought to do you some good instead of sitting around our suite twenty-four-seven." I turned my body to get passed Ilom and out of my bedroom, I brushed against Ilom. I felt my face flush with heat and as hard as I tried to suppress it, it wouldn't go away.

I grabbed my bag and opened it making sure everything was there check listing everything off in my head: _weapon, money, and water bottle_. Check. I was half way across the living room, when I got so focused trying to avoid looking at Ilom that I bumped straight into him. Epic Failure.

He caught my hand as I stumbled. "Anya, what's wrong? You seem a bit distracted," he asked, seeming genuinely concerned, his aura agreed, too.

"N-nothing." I stammered, already lost in his sapphire eyes with one look. I could find it in myself to look away. I realised he hadn't let go of my hand. Its touch was reassuring, like a lost child found something to clutch onto, like a teddy bear. I realised how close we were standing, if he realised, too, he showed no signs of it. The warmth of Ilom's skin against mine made sparks explode in my chest.

I made the mistake of looking at our hands clasped together. He moved his hand away abruptly, like he was embarrassed to even hold my hand. When the warmth left, the coldness came, it snaked its way to my heart, snuffing out any feeling of happiness that managed to ignite.

He looked away, I was disappointed. My emotions surprised me, I mean, I knew I like him in ways a bit more than just a friend, but I never expected it to be love. I was quiet in our—I mean, my suite. I broke the silence.

"I need to get changed." Realising that I was still wearing my thin cotton night dress. As I walked away, a hand clasped my wrist, I stopped, but stayed facing the other way. "Yes?"

"I—um, never mind." Ilom let go of my wrist and walked back into the lounge room.

I went to my room with a quick pace, not wanting to keep Ilom waiting, and closed the door behind me.

Leaning on the oak door behind me, I touched my wrist, where his hand left tingles beneath my skin. I was foolish enough to let my mind wonder: did he feel the same way for me? What if he did? What if he didn't?

The rational part of mind told me to ignore it as best I can, almost convincing me that any "common man", as the King put it, would never love the daughter of the probably most corrupted and selfish man in all of Ixia and Sitia combined. The other part constantly made quixotic fantasies of me and Ilom, together. Both ideas disappeared as soon as I came to the realisation that Ilom might already have someone special in his life.

I changed into my light tank top and tights, perfect for weather such as today: clear blue skies with the occasional cloud. I walked out in a few minutes, tying my hair into a ponytail.

Ilom got up from his seat on the sofa when he spotted me walking to retrieve my bum bag from the coffee table situated in front of the little loveseat. "Let's go." I said, clipping the bag around my waist so that the bulk of the bag was on my right hip.

Minutes later, we stood on the balcony while I locked the door. I did my ordinary routine series of jumps down to ground level, while watching Ilom scale down the Cheketo's trunk.

"You a fast learner." I said.

"No, I used to climb up and down trees with my brothers." A sad expression gripped his face. I walked with him to the market and stopped a few metres from the first group of stores, reminding myself that if anyone remembered my face I'd get a lot of unwanted attention.

"I'm heading that way," I told him, pointing in the direction of the park I went to a couple of months ago. "I'll meet you back here in about an hour's time. Sound good?"

"Sure," Ilom had a knack for one-word answers. He started to walk off in the direction of the market leaving me standing alone. I felt almost empty without him standing next to me. Thanks to the tiny pang of loneliness in my chest, I knew then and there that my love for Ilom wasn't just a fleeting thought.

I snapped out of my funk, starting off with a light jog, banishing all thoughts of Ilom. When I hit the stone pathway in the park, I started to run a little faster, until all I could see was the area in front of me. I blocked everything out. The sound of the rhythmic thumping of my feet against the stone slabs made it way to my ears.

I looked around, I was close to the cliff hill that over looked the town and its market. Taking one deep breath out of many, I run up the hill to my left and I left the vast cluster of trees behind me. It wasn't long before I climbed up the hill and was marvelling at the view.

 _Was I looking at the same thing six years ago?_ The last time I came here, I looked upon green grass still sparkling from the morning dew, the people milling everywhere, stopping only now and then to look at the merchandise the salesmen have to offer. Now I look upon the barren weed-filled land, with barely half the people it had wandering about in the town square. Reading the auras of the people who were out and about, purple grey mist surrounded almost every one if their heads, something on their minds were either angering or saddening.

I sighed to myself. I sensed movement in my peripheral vision. I ran to the closest tree and hid as I look for my onlooker. I saw nothing, but a small butterfly, basking in the sunlight on a little daisy. _At least the forests remain untouched by the king's filthy hands._ I sat on the grass a metre away from the butterfly, observing it without scaring it.

"I envy you," I told the butterfly. As if in response, it fluttered its wings. "I wish I had your life's simplicity, you could just fly away from your problems." I paused, reconsidering my words and give a quiet chuckle. "Then again, I could, but not in that respect."

The sound of the rustling of leaves from a bush nearby scared the butterfly. Its small wings beat fast and I stood up watching it as it flew away. The sound was probably made by a wild hare. I brushed it off. My mistake.

The sharp pain of a dart pricked into the skin on the back of my neck, a heavy wave of drowsiness enveloped me followed by a dull ache spreading from where the dart pricked me. _Poison._

A list of poisons were marched across my mind, trying to recall the one that performed these symptoms.

Too late.

The poison claimed my body as I slumped to the ground. I lay on the grass untouched by any human life for years, the streaks of sunlight that escaped the canopy of the forest's trees, fell into my eyes. The sharp crispness of the woods I loved, turned into a blur of greens and browns before my eyes and I gave in to the darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Anya POV

"Yes, you have a solid argument, Valek, but to we really need to keep her? For all we know, she could be conspiring with her father." A calm male voice floated into my awareness and I stifled a gasp. I was alive!

I replayed the man's words in my mind. He mentioned 'Valek', and it was common knowledge that Valek was the Rebel Leader's right hand man and assassin. A horrible thought entered my mind, had the Rebels decided to assassinate me? That would definitely explain why Valek is here. But why kidnap me, first? Why not just shoot me with a dart, laced heavily with a lethal dose of liquid Tigtus?

"I know we can trust her, she doesn't want anything to do with the King." Another voice argued back, this one dreadfully familiar. A gut instinct you're unable to prove, constantly gnawing at you, like an itch you can't scratch.

Footsteps sounded, coming in my direction. I sat still, ironically having no other choice, being tied to a chair. I kept my breathing even and my body looking as limp as if I were still affected by the drug.

"Hello, Princess. I know you're awake," said the first voice. I didn't dare move a muscle or even open my eyes, which wouldn't make any difference if I did anyways, since I was blindfolded. I slowly my breathing even more. "Nice try, but I know you're awake. All we want to do is have a nice little chat," he repeated. The voice was neither content nor sinister, just neutral. It frightened me.

The other man coughed and sighed like a child does after being told off for stealing one too many cookies. "Just do as he says, Anya." That got my attention.

My head shot up and I gasped. "Ilom?" I murmured, we must have been in a pretty remote place if my captors were so confident no one would hear me scream, because there was no gag tied around my mouth.

Voice number two gave a quiet chuckle and the blindfold was taken off. I squinted at the vague light coming from a weak fire in the hearth. I scanned my surroundings looking for a way to escape. I highly doubt one would kidnap another just to have a 'chat'.

I sat, tied to a chair, in a bleak room surrounded by stone walls. Despite the armoire, cot, and desk, the room highly resembled a prison cell. My eyes landed on the two men standing in front of me. Ilom stood behind the other man with his arms crossed, an entirely different demeanour. His cold sapphire eyes gleamed at me as if I were snow cat's prey. I suddenly remembered my tool's bracelet. I touched it with my fingers and sighed a mental sigh of relief. They had taken my dagger, but they didn't suspect my bracelet, whoever _they_ was.

"Ilom." I said, not knowing whether to make it a question or statement. I must've had quiet an amusing expression on my face, because Ilom shifted his weight onto his other leg, tiny smile etched onto his strong features.

The person in front of me straightened. "Well, Valek, you've proved your skills once again." The man walked out of the room to tidy his papers, not before whispering orders to the guard outside.

"Yes, sir." He closed the door and turned to me. "Hello, Anya." I suppressed the urge to flinch at the sound of his voice, so familiar, yet it was like talking to a stranger. "Have you figured it out yet?"

As if on cue, the answer rammed into my head, I felt my eyes widen as the pieces of a crossbow clicked together. Another person I thought knew. The string become taut. Another person I thought I could trust. The arrow was loaded in. Another person I had cared for, betrayed me. The arrow went flying and lodged itself in my heat.


End file.
